


Friendly Flowers

by pastelsexual



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Hearing Voices, Light Angst, Quiet Nights On A Roof, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelsexual/pseuds/pastelsexual
Summary: When Mark comes down with a disease he thought was fake, he struggles to hide it from the fanbase and literally the entire world. He and Amy try to work though their feelings, but one thing stands in their way. They've been friends since elementary.Now, how the heck do you work past that??





	1. Laughter and Movies

Mark was laughing, his loud burst echoing throughout the house. He was playing Rocket League, and had just seen Ethan miss a pass that was humiliating, on Ethan’s behalf. His navy-blue hair was woven through his hands, which were clenched in frustration, and his body was shaking from laughter. He was in a ball on the floor. “I-I can’t b-believe you fucking mi-issed that!” Mark said, barely able to get a sentence out. He was in a good mood today, possibly from the Don’t Laugh Challenge he had done earlier. The controllers lay forgotten on the coffee table and couch in their outburst. Mark quickly got through his outro before signaling to Amy to turn off the camera. She looked confused, wondering why they were laughing so much at Rocket Leauge, of all games. “Alright, I’ll leave you boys to it,” she said, patting Mark’s and Ethan’s head, then walking out to the kitchen to most likely find something to eat.

Meanwhile, the boys were recovering from their laughing fit, both red in the face. Ethan had recovered, shutting the game down and cleaning up. Meanwhile, Mark had laughed himself into a coughing fit, which was unusual for him. Ethan looked over in slight alarm. “You ok there?” He asked, looking over his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” Mark sputtered out. Amy poked her head out of the kitchen, a half-made sandwich in her hand. “Who’s coughing?” She said. “Just Mark, from laughing to much,” he said, smiling. Relieved, she went back to her food. Mark stopped coughing, and went to the bathroom, humming to himself. Ethan finished cleaning the living room up, no one noticing the single, small, light pink flower petal, sitting on the carpet.

 

The whole team was in the living room, Amy sitting with one hand on Mark’s shoulder; Ethan curled against the couch on the floor, Tyler spread out on the other half of the couch. It was a movie night tonight, the movies being a Disney marathon. Ethan was eagerly munching on caramel popcorn, eyes fixed on the tv screen. Tyler was scrolling on his phone, eyes flicking around. Amy and Mark, being friends, but close, were sitting together, but a respectful distance away. They were laughing occasionally. Amy looked like Ethan, eyes glued to the screen. Mark, on the other hand, was blushing lightly, freaking out inside. 

He and Amy had been best friends, ever since 2nd grade, when he had helped her up after she had fallen from the swings on the playground. All through middle school, he had only been her friend, thought of her as one, as he helped her with algebra. Then, in junior year of highschool, he developed a gradually-got-stronger-crush on her. She was quite attractive, with her blonde, wavy hair, and curves in the right places. He covered it up well, besides that fact that he worked out much more during that time. He still did the same as always, helping her recover from ex’s or bad friends, helping with homework, or generally hanging out. He was, and still is, very protective of her. Now, as adults, Mark matured, but his crush did not. 

Suddenly, he started coughing, raspy coughs from his fit earlier that day. Amy looked over, worried. “Mark, are you ok?” She asked, worried. Ethan didn’t hear, and Tyler looked up, then looked back down at his phone. He tried to nod, but continued to cough. “Here, let’s go to the bathroom,” she whispered, helping him up and leading him away down the hall. He nearly collapsed onto the tile next to the toilet, the Chinese food coming up along with everything he had eaten that day. While he threw up, Amy looked on worriedly and rubbed his back with her hand, not caring if something landed on her. She was worried about her friend! He was sick, he almost never gets sick, and he looked miserable. After a few minutes of retching, he looked exhausted. Gently, she helped him stand, then took a washcloth and ran it under the faucet, then wiped it all over his arms and face, peering at him, watching his tired eyes avoid her gaze. She dried his face and arms, then stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, between his eyebrows. He tensed, then relaxed, and locked her in a loose hug, arms draped over her shoulders and head resting against the curve of her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a couple minutes. “Don’t be,” she said back. He pulled back, and she led him out of the bathroom, Mark looking back. Just as he lost sight of the bathroom, sitting in the corner, was a small, pink flower.

 

Amy led him down the hallway, to his bedroom. She walked in, Mark’s hand in hers, and flipped on a lamp. “Here, go put on some pj’s,” she said. He walked over to his closet and rummaged through, finally landing on some M pants and a black tee-shirt. He turned around to see Amy at the far side of the room, changing her white top into something from his closet. She was in the middle of pulling in over her head. Unwillingly, his eyes lingered on her soft, tanned skin and soft curves. She pulled the shirt over her head and he quickly turned around. “I’ll let you change. I’m going to go get my phone charger.” She exited, laughter clearly in her voice. Mark mentally facepalmed and quickly changed, feeling slightly nauseous. Hearing a knock at his door, he opened it to find Amy, with a pillow, her charger, and her phone. “Hello!” She said brightly. “I’ve come to have a sleepover!” “Great, come on in!” He said playfully, taking her forearm and dragging her gently into the room. “What do you want to watch?” Mark asked, turning on the tv. A little slowly, he laid himself across on half of the bed, waiting for an answer. Amy skimmed the movie selection. “Ah!” She said after a moment. “The 70’s show.” Mark selected it, and Amy curled up on the other half of the bed, humming along to the theme song. 

_“Aw, look at them!” Ethan said, poking Tyler in the side, then to the two, who were curled up, sleeping, some randomly-selected movie playing on the tv. Ethan silently fangirled (quite uselessly) while Tyler turned off the tv and threw a blanket over the two. Suddenly Tyler stopped, confused. “What?” Ethan asked. “These.” Tyler picked one up. They were beautiful flowers, a pastel blue in colour, with softly-rounded petals. There were two on the floor. “Where did they come from?” Ethan asked, picking up the other one. “Mark didn’t buy Amy flowers.”  
“I don’t know,” Tyler answered, “But lets throw these away. I…I don’t like the look of these. Too pretty to be real. But they are.” He grunted and closed his hand around the small flower, crushing it. _

 

Mark woke, gasping. Amy was curled against him, a blue blanket covering her. Her chest rose and fell with long breaths, unlike Mark, who felt like he was choking. As quietly as he could, he got up and ran to the bathroom, throwing up again. More like dry-heaving, really. After a few minutes, Mark got up and washed his face, then something caught his attention. There, in the corner of the bathroom. A single pastel blue flower. “What the fuck?” Mark whispered, turning it over in his hands. A cough bubbled up in his chest and he coughed. He watched in confusion and fright as a petal, looking like it belonged to the one he held in his hands, drifted slowly to the floor. Mark jumped back in shock, knocking over a soap bottle in the process. “What the fuck? Why am I coughing up flowers??” His breathing quickened, and he quickly made his way back to the bedroom to grab his phone. Quickly, he typed, “why am I coughing up flowers” and waited. The first result, a Wikipedia article, said something that looked relevant. He scrolled down, coming to a stop at a spot that said something about “hanahaki disease”

**“The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.”**

Mark froze. Oh no. This couldn’t be true. Flowers?? He read further. “Chronic disease. Hmmm…” Mark muttered. Oh well, can’t believe everything you read on the internet, especially wikipedia. Mark read further, seeing links to hospital reports from previous patients. All of them had died. Except two. Apparently, one had survived, with surgery, but was now unable to feel anything empathetically or romantically. The other one was luckier, having fallen in love. 

He put down his phone and sighed, suddenly feeling tired and worn-out. He felt Amy mumble something and she wrapped her hand around his lower arm. He blushed and looked down at her. The blanket had been kicked off, but he tugged it back over her, making sure she was comfortable. He was glad to have such a good friend. Before he dozed off, the word repeated itself in his head.

 

Friend.


	2. Shared Secrets

_*A week after the events of Chapter One*_

Amy was editing one of Mark’s videos, this time it was a Try not to Smile. How could saving a dog that looked a lot like Chica not make you smile or randomly donate $1,000 to the charity? Chica panted at her feet, tail slapping the floor. Amy smiled and reached down to pet her head. She heard footsteps behind her and saw Mark. Today he looked as good as dead. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his breath rattled in his chest. Some days, he looked normal. Other days, he looked like he’d been hit by a bus. Multiple times. Today was one of those days. She was starting to get worried, but he always brushed it off. Whenever she asked about it, he got a haunted look in his eyes, and plastered a smile on his face and said it was just a persistent virus. But, having known him for years, she always saw through his mask, but did nothing to press it, seeing how he reacted to it. The whole Iplier team was starting to get worried.

This time, though, since they were the only ones at the house today, she was going to see if she could get an answer. A true one, not the stomach bug one. He smiled thinly, a cup of black coffee in his hand. She smiled back, and before he could escape to the living room, she asked, “Hey, you look like you’re as good as dead. Is the virus kicking in again? We can go to the doctor today.” She looked at him, worry plain in her eyes. “I’m starting to get really worried.” Mark looked slightly panicked, and his eyes avoided hers as he mumbled into his coffee, “Yeah, it is.”  
“Really? Because a real stomach bug wouldn’t be that violent, and drag on this long. Please don’t give the same old excuse. I know something else is happening to you. Don’t be afraid to tell me. I’ve known you practically my whole life. I really care about you.” She paused. Mark blushed, and didn’t take his gaze away from his cup. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket, typed something into the search bar, and handed her the phone. “You probably won’t believe me,” he mumbled, “but this is what is really causing my coughing and throwing up.” He turned around and walked into the living room, collapsing on the couch and turning on the tv. She looked down at the Wikipedia article he had chosen. She read through it, breathing becoming quicker as she skimmed through the words. She finally reached the end and stood there shocked. This said it was a fictional disease, but cleary people before had been effected. She heard Mark cough, and she snapped her head towards him, seeing some pale yellow petals drift to the ground. He didn’t even look at them. She sucked in her breath, shocked. Ok, no doubt now. “Mark,” she mumbled, walking towards him. “Who is causing this?” 

He didn’t answer for several moments. Then, he finally blurted out, “You.”

She internally gasped. “W-What? Me? How?” But she could already see the pieces putting themselves into her head. All the kind words (getting slightly flirtatious in high school), all the protective behavior, the stolen touches. And the blush he got whenever she said something nice to him. He liked her. Now she was causing the death of him.  
She put his phone on the coffee table between them, looked him in the eyes, and said, “I’m going out. I’ll be back.” She patted his hand, and turned and walked out the door.

 

Amy had been sitting on the wooden bench in front of the lake for awhile now. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out here, but she didn’t really care. Amy was thinking. About Mark’s hanahaki. About how she had never noticed his crush on her. She thought about the selfies that were now up on Twitter and Instagram, how people were shipping them. Amy laughed dryly. Haha. All that was her fault. She was gradually killing him. Besides, she was a mess. Who would want to date her? All she ever thought about Mark was him in a friend way, her big hero. She wished she could help him. Amy had tried thinking about him in a boyfriend way, but she never got far with that. “Wow,” she muttered. “When you’re both so far in the friendzone that neither of you can get out.”  
Suddenly hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around to see Mark, looking better than he had just a couple hours ago. He nervously walked up, Amy’s favorite jacket draped over his arm. “You left without your jacket, so I thought I should bring it to you.” He held it out, quite robotically. She took it, and at the same time, wrapped her hand around his wrist. Mark stiffened and tried to pull away, but she tugged harder, and said “stay.” Mark obeyed and sat down, a few inches in between their shoulders. She scooted over till her shoulder was touching his and laid her head into the curve of his neck. He blushed, about the same shade as his hair, and glanced down at her.  
“I’m sorry,” Amy said after a few minutes of silence. “I wasn’t mad. I just needed to think it out.” Mark nodded. “I thought you were mad and wanted to move out.” He confessed. He coughed, and more pale yellow petals shot out. She could hear his breath, which was now beginning to even out, probably because of the closeness. She burst into tears, quickly soaking his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, loose enough so that she could pull away, but tight enough to show that he was there. “I’m sorry!” She said again, sobbing. “I’m sorry that I’m killing you! I don’t want to, but I don’t know how to think of you of more than a friend!” She leaned into him, thankful that he was there. “I don’t know how to fix this. How to fix myself. How to fix you.” She stopped crying and lifted her head to look at him, mascara and eyeliner staining her cheeks. Mark pulled her back in for another hug. “Shh, shh, it’s ok,” he repeated, over and over. “It’s fine. It’s my fault. I do care for you...more than friends should. But I’m not pressuring you into anything. If this kills me, at least you’ll be there, right?” Amy sighed and nodded. For an hour after, they sat, Amy encased in Mark’s arms, showing traces of the protective best friend from high school. 

As the sun sunk down, and stars rose, Mark shook Amy gently, who had dozed off. “Hey,” he whispered. “Let’s go home.” She nodded silently, and let him guide her back to his car. Good thing she had walked here.

 

Mark let Amy sleep with him again, since she seemed unwilling to go into her room and be alone. He was scrolling through his twitter feed, finally deciding to post on why his videos had been sparse the past week. He also decided to snap a quick picture of Amy who was dead to the world, curled next to him. He posted that with a “grateful for my lifelong friend, @icedorkroast <3” next to it. He hoped she would approve. Yeah, probably, in the form of a pillow to the face. Eh, he probably deserved it. He posted it, the comments and likes almost immediately followed it, comments of people fangirling, freaking out, saying how cute they were, #goals, and such. He smiled, grateful she was here. Mark remembered what she had said when they were sitting on the bench. “We have to keep your hanahaki a secret. The fans can’t know. We don’t want to worry them. And,” She had added. “NO telling the rest of our group. Yet. Ok?” He had agreed.

Both slept soundly, and when Mark woke, she was still out. He decided to get up and make some breakfast, and when the rest of the team came over, discuss the upcoming charity livestream. As he was halfway through making the scrambled eggs, he felt Amy touch his shoulder. “Hey,” she said, sounding half asleep.” “Hello,” Mark answered back. “I’ll be there in a minute, I’m making breakfast.” He gestured at the two plates and messy countertop. “I can see that, idiot,” she teased. “But ok.”

He smiled and thought about her, then the upcoming livestream, hoping he could keep it together in front of his friends and a couple million people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok took me a while to find out how to post a new chapter :'D
> 
> I'm stupid lol


	3. Pillow Fight!

It had been weeks since Mark, Amy, and the rest of the team had discussed the upcoming livestream. Everyone liked to plan in advance for the bigger livestreams, so the other smaller ones weren’t that big of a problem. 

But Mark had a bigger problem on his hands. Well, in his lungs.

His hanahaki.

It had gradually gotten worse, to the point where they had to tell the rest of the team why Mark was always coughing or throwing up. Well, Amy told everyone, while he was in his bedroom, passed out. Ethan and Kathryn looked horrified, but Tyler was as calm as always, though he was probably freaking out on the inside too. Chica barked. Amy didn’t tell who was the cause of his hanahaki, but it looked like Kathryn knew, as she pulled Amy out to the balcony to talk to her.

Yep, she knew.

Amy and Mark had grown considerably closer over the past month or so, to the point where everyone thought that they were dating, but Amy still couldn’t get past the fact that her very-close friend was probably dying because of her. She tried to get past those feelings, but it was still hard. She hoped Mark could one day help her understand.

But as of right now, the livestream was taking place in a couple hours, and usually Amy would have to hold Mark and calm him down in the early mornings, but this was going to be different. She walked down to his room, relieved to find him sleeping soundly. At least there were no new flowers littering the floor. But, sadly, she was going to have to wake him up, because the livestream started at 10 am. It was 7 am and everyone else was already up, getting breakfast, tidying up the living room, things like that.

“Mark,” Amy whispered, knocking softly on the door. “Are you awake?” He grunted something that could’ve meant anything. She peeked around the door, seeing him sprawled out all over the mattress, the covers only covering the lower half of his body. “Damn,” Amy muttered. “Why does my best friend have to be so fucking handsome?” His breath rattled in his chest, and Amy again felt a spear of sadness and hopelessness pierce her heart. Sighing quietly, she walked over to his bed and gently shook his arm, whispering “Hey Mark, wake up.” She waited a couple moments, and practically yelled, “Mark! Wake up! The livestream is today and you are **STILL** in bed!” She hit him with a pillow to make sure he understood. Mark jumped up with a yell, eyes snapping open. “Amy!” He yelled back, laughing. “I’m sorry, I forgot!”  
“‘I forgot, my ass’,” She snorted. “You just wanted more sleep! Imagine if you walked in on the livestream, still half-asleep, in that.” She motioned toward his clothes, which was really just long black sweatpants with little white M’s and the signature pink mustache. Her eyes lingered a little longer on his tanned torso, and Mark noticed. “What?” He asked. “Wish you had some of this?” He flexed and Amy gasped. “Mark!” She said, blushing even harder. She picked up a pillow off his bed and slammed it into his stomach. With a small ‘oof’, he fell face-first onto the floor. “Mark!” She said in sudden alarm, leaning down to brush his fringe away from his forehead. “Are you ok?”  
While she worried, his hand inched toward a pillow, half under his bed. He finally grabbed it, and in one quick motion, he flipped up onto his feet, and swung the pillow at her. It hit her knees, and she laughed. 

Soon, an all-out pillow war between the two had erupted, and Ethan had quietly snuck up the stairs, to see what was taking the two so long. He brought the camera with him, secretly starting the livestream early after alerting all his and Mark’s fans on twitter and other social medias. “Ok,” he whispered to the camera. “I wonder what’s taking them so long? Let’s go find out!” He laughed quietly as he saw the chat fill with possibilities. He pressed his ear to the door, and heard laughter and the sound of something hitting bare skin. He put the camera down, whispered, “I’ll be right back,” and peeked his eyes through the slightly-open door. Ethan’s eyes widened, and the livestream saw him trying hard to cover up his laughter. There was lots of “What’s going on??”, “What’s happening?”, and such. Ethan could hardly keep from bursting into tears from laughing, and he said, “If we raise 5,000 dollars in the next one minute, you can see.” 

The chat exploded, comments saying that they would donate. At around 50 seconds, 5,000 dollars had been donated, and Ethan was surprised. Wow. They really wanted to see this. He quickly made sure that they were still busy with their pillow war, and quietly opened the door, just a little bit. Ethan moved the camera so it was facing them and stood there. Yeah, a little creepy. Oh well. 

Mark was in the middle of swinging a pillow at Amy’s back, and she was swinging her pillow at the back of his knees. The livestream chat was exploding even more than before, practically yelling at how cute they were, how lucky Mark was to have her, and other cute comments. After about two more minutes, their pillow war had started to die down. Ethan was starting to back out into the hallway, but whipped the camera and his head around as he heard a groan from Mark. It sounded like Amy had accidentally hit Mark with her pillow really hard in his groin, and he had collapsed onto the floor. Amy burst into loud laughter and managed to squeeze out an “I’m sorry” before doubling over in laughter. Ethan then accidentally let out a huge snort, that then turning into a coughing/laughing fit. Amy and Mark both noticed Ethan at the same time, and while Amy turned almost the same colour of Mark’s hair, Mark launched himself off the floor, pillow in hand, and charged at Ethan, a war cry ripping from his throat. Ethan screamed playfully and charged down the hallway, practically falling down the staircase. He could hear Mark’s pounding footsteps behind him, and he quickly looked at the chat. It was going crazy again, about the pillow war and the vicious shaking of the camera.

Mark finally caught up to Ethan. "Got you, blue boy," he said roughly, then promptly slammed the pillow on the back of his head. Ethan gasped and fell, dropping the camera. Mark grabbed it and focused it on Ethan. “Now,” he said loosely, catching his breath. "We see a dead Ethan, in his natural habitat.” He laughed lightly, his breath still not all back, and started to cough. Amy ran up behind him, grabbed the camera from Mark’s loosening grip, and told Ethan to take Mark to the bathroom. She turned the camera around to face her, carefully away from Mark and Ethan, and told the audience not to worry, that he was just a little breathless. “And, the official livestream will start in two hours. I hope you enjoyed the first part.” She sniffed, but suddenly heard Mark vomiting from the bathroom, so she told the fans goodbye quickly, hoping that they hadn’t heard that. She turned off the camera, then went to check up on Mark, then go help Kathryn and Tyler with all the last-minute preparations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3  
> pillow fights are the best


	4. Sleeping Pills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide attempt in this chapter. Probably not the best, but I tried. (Not in the bad way.)
> 
> If you are having suicidal thoughts, please call 1-800-273-8255 or talk to them. Know that people do love you, and stay safe <3

The livestream had officially started about two hours ago, and everything was still going on schedule. Mark had not had any coughing fits, nor had he thrown up again since that morning. Amy and Kathryn always managed the behind-the-scenes stuff, like the cameras, ordering food, or keeping track of donations while the boys did all the things on screen. Even if Mark had insisted that he was fine before the stream started, she still kept one eye on him, so that if he did start coughing, or look uncomfortable, Ethan, Tyler, and Kathryn would keep the stream running and she would go help Mark. They had a whole plan.

Minutes before the livestream started, Ethan came up to Mark and put a hand on his shoulder. “Remember? Just say “roses” and walk off-screen. Try not to fall apart in front of everyone.” He stared Mark in the eyes.  
“I know,” Mark responded. “Roses. Walk off-screen. Ok.” He smiled thinly and as Amy called out “One minute!” He, Tyler, and Ethan quickly got into place, Tyler closest to the door, then Mark in the middle, with Ethan on the other side. Kathryn signaled as she started the stream. Chica was sitting next to Amy, tail thumping the floor. “Chica shhh,” he said, leaning toward her and putting a finger to his lips. Everyone laughed, and Mark leaned back, saying his usual intro. 

“Hello everyone, and welcome to the February for St. Jude’s hospital!” 

*time skip*

“And thank you, everyone, for donating! This will really go a long way for the children at St. Judes, and all the staff. Alright guys, we will see you in the next video! Buh-bye!” And with his signature wave, he signaled Amy to turn off the cameras. Mark stood and stretched, then sighed deeply. “Well, that went great!” He said, turning to look at the others. “11 hours of-”  
“-Stress” Ethan finished. Everyone laughed, and Mark turned toward the group. “Ok, I can fix all this tomorrow, you guys should go home and get some sleep.” Ethan mumbled an “alright” in response and turned to Tyler while Amy and Kathryn started to pack their things. Amy saw him and waved him over. “Hey,” she said. “I’m going to stay at Kathryn’s tonight. Is that ok?”

Puzzled, Mark said yes. “Don’t know why you need to ask me, but yeah, that's fine.” Amy laughed. “I just wanted to make sure you knew where I was.”  
“Oh, ok,” He responded. Ethan called Mark over to tell him he and Tyler were going home. “Apparently I’m too sleep-deprived, or whatever that means,” Ethan started, words slightly slurring together. “So Tyler’s gonna drive me home,” He laughed. Tyler put an arm around his shoulders, walking him to the front door. “Come on, blue boy,” he said. “Let’s take you home.” 

Amy came up behind Mark and hugged him. “Bye, Mark!” She said. “I’ll come over two days from now to help you clean this up, ok?” Mark nodded. “Ok, Amy. Have a good night. Don’t die or anything.” She laughed and kissed him on his forehead. “Fineee,” she whined. “Bye.” And with that, she was gone. Mark sighed. Now he only had Chica to keep him company.  
Chica whined and pushed her nose into his hand. He laughed slightly and petted her head, then her back. Exhausted, Mark decided to feed Chica, then head up to bed. She eagerly munched at her food, and Mark trudged upstairs. He started to cough. Running to the bathroom, he decided to wait there until his “fit” had passed. 

Ten minutes later, he exited the bathroom more tired than ever. It was pink flowers this time. His breathing wasn’t getting any better, it was getting worse. He could practically feel the flowers take root in his lungs, creeping up his throat, till they burst out of his mouth, and he couldn’t hide them anymore. They were creeping up around his neck, around the back of his head, his arms. They were beautiful, but there were invisible thorns digging into his skin, leaving small bleeding cuts, anchoring them there. 

No. He fiercely shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight. He hasn’t slept a full night in weeks. Mark is lucky enough to even get three hours, no matter how skim. The thoughts about the flowers. What would his friends do if he died? Cry, yes, but then they'd probably get over it. People always got over things. He wasn't worth it, he was dying anyway. The thoughts whispered to him, telling him to take more and more of the pills. He'd already passed out twice. The pills didn't really work. Perhaps he wasn’t taking enough. Maybe he should take more than the normal two. He just wanted to sleep. He remembered all the sleepless nights, all the nights he had taken midnight walks, or brought a bowl of popcorn up to his room to watch a movie, just because he couldn’t sleep. Every hour he stayed awake, the more voices in his head. He didn't want them there, but they were there, wether he liked it or not. They were always chanting.

**"Worthless"**  
**"Stupid"**  
**"You think your good enough for her? Ha! You'd be lucky to even get your dog to like you!"**  
**"Why are you still here? Do it! You _deserve it_ "**

After a couple minutes of pacing and deciding, Mark opened the door to his bathroom, searching for the pill bottle. There it was, the little innocent white bottle. Filled with relief. Or death. Not bothering to close the bathroom door, or read the label, he shook the open bottle, not bothering to see how many fell out onto his hand. “That should be enough, for now,” he muttered, then swallowed them dry, not bothering with the water. They would kick in pretty soon. He should stay here, just in case he starts coughing again. Mark sighed and sank down against the wall, opposite the sink. “Oh, how fast my life has gone to shit,” he said to himself, laughing dryly. “All because of an emotion. **A FUCKING EMOTION!”** He screamed angrily, hurling the pill bottle at the wall. It left a small dent in the wall, but it just fell to the floor, still intact. Mark sighed again, and let the fog of the pills consume his mind. He could wake up later. If he did. His head felt heavy, full of fog and chains. He tried to fight it. But the voices were back. Screaming at him. Yelling at him. **"Let it take you!"** they cried. So he obeyed. He felt his body hit the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, hair falling over his face. His chest rattled once, in a fighting breath, then he let it go, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

**"Ah, peace,"** The voices said, relaxing.

 

*huge time skip*  
“Mark!” Amy yelled, worried. She had been standing at his front door for fifteen minutes now. Normally, he would answer the door right away, and he would hug her and Chica would come running, barking, licking her face. Now, that wasn’t happening. She could hear Chica, yes. Chica was barking and putting her face against the window, looking at Amy. “I’m sorry, girl! I don’t know what’s wrong with Mark! Where is he? He’s home, right. The van is still here.” She sighed. Amy didn’t know what was wrong. She knocked again, harder. “Mark!!” He didn’t answer. She bit her lip, worried. He had looked, _depressed,_ last night, after the stream. _Shit. Is he ok?!_ She put her head in her hands, thinking.

Wait. Does Mark still leave his back door unlocked? She knows that he has a bad habit of doing that. They did have the back door open today. She hurried around to the back, and twisted the knob. It moved, but it looked like it was jammed. She looked around, making sure she was alone before she backed up and ran into the door, shoulder hitting the wood. Groaning, she held her shoulder tenderly. She was going to have a big bruise later. Not that she minded. She just wanted to find Mark. 

At least the door looked loose now. She twisted the door knob again and shoved her full weight against it. She twisted the knob angrily for a couple moments before she finally felt the door open.Amy stumbled into the house, aware that everything was...quiet. The only sound was Chica’s nails clicking against the dark hardwood. She whined. Chica sounded hungry. Had Mark even fed her this morning? She peered into her bowl, seeing some stray stale kibble from the night before. Nope. Not since last night. “Mark!” She yelled into the silent house. “Why haven’t you fed Chica? Where are you? What’s wrong? Please answer!” No red-haired doof answered her string of questions. Just Chica, sniffling around. Amy hurriedly fed Chica with her food from the lower cabinet, tossed it back in, and ran throughout the house. The recording setup from the stream hadn’t been touched. Hadn’t Mark said last night that he would clean some of it up? None of it was touched. She quickly checked all the guest rooms. All empty. The kitchen was empty, that's where she "entered" the house. That left his room and the upstairs bathroom that they shared. Nervousness welled in her stomach. Did this have something to do with his hanahaki? That would make matters worse. Tentatively, she peeked around his bedroom door. The sheets were cold to the touch, and his phone lay abandoned on his nightstand. He hadn't been in his room for two days. A chill ran up her spine and she shivered violently. That only meant that he had to be in the bathroom. Unwanted thoughts raced in her mind as she walked the short distance between his bedroom and the bathroom.

 _Has he hurt himself? Is he sulking? Is he passed out? Is he covered in his own flowers, coughed up from his own lungs? Is he..._  
She didn't finish that thought.

She knocked on the half open door, and when no one answered, she closed her eyes and pushed the door. Amy heard breathing, which meant he was alive, at least. But the breathing was slow, oh so slow, and it was rough and uneven, like something was stuck in lungs. Tentatively, she opened her eyes, lashes wet with worried tears.

And screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited heavily. I write these in google docs, then I paste here and edit.
> 
> <3


	5. Raised Questions

Amy had Mark laid out on his couch. She had been horrified to find his limp form slumped on the cold white tile. She was in such a panic when she found him, she didn't bother to look for what caused this. He was definitely in some sleepy state, although he looked completely knocked out. His breathing was deep and slow, but she could still hear the raspiness of the flowers, rooted and growing in his lungs. Every now and then, a lone petal would drift out of his mouth. Often it was a pastel pink, yellow, or blue, to perfect to be true. She hated them.

Amy sighed. Well, perhaps it was time to go up to the bathroom and go find what he used to do this to himself. Amy tugged the blanket higher around his shoulders, then left. As she trudged up the stairs, she remembered dragging Mark down the stairs by his arms, wincing every time his limp form hit something. He was too heavy for her to carry, so she had no other option than to drag him. Wiping the dried tears from her face, she pushed the bathroom door open and stood in the doorway, momentarily forgetting what she needed to do. “Right,” she muttered. “I need to find what caused him to collapse.” 

It didn’t take her long to find what he had used, because there was a small dent in the wall, next to the sink. A pill bottle. She picked it up and turned it around in her hands, wondering what it was. She read the battered label. Sleeping pills. 

_Why would he need this? Did he want to kill himself? Before the flowers did? I’ll have to ask him when he wakes up._

He had probably thrown it at the wall in a fit of anger. How many did he take?! Amy thought angrily. “Why, Mark, why?!” she shouted, even if it was to herself. "I still care about you! Just because I don't like you _that way_ doesn't mean you can knock yourself out! Or try to kill yourself!" Tears choked her last words. Gritting her teeth, she took the pill bottle and walked downstairs to where he was, laying on the couch. Mark still looked dead to the world. The small, messy pile of single petals now had a small blue flower laying on the top. 

_That’s not good. I hope I can help fix all this mess somehow._

Amy put the pills onto the coffee table. “I should text the rest of the team not to come over today,” she muttered, pulling out her phone. It pained her to see that her lockscreen was of her and Mark. He had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she was leaning in towards him. They were both smiling. She laughed bitterly to herself. After texting the rest of the team, saying something among the lines of _“Mark is sick, I’ll take care of him today,”_ she pocketed her phone and stood, deciding to go get a blanket and watch some Netflix and wait for Mark to wake up. She grabbed a fluffy blanket and went to go get some chips and a glass of water for Mark when he woke up. Setting them down on the coffee table, she covered herself in the blanket and switched on the tv, waiting for him to surface.

 

Amy was on her third movie and she was starting to get bored. Mark had stirred a couple times, but had always fell back into his knocked-out state. _Crap._ Amy's eyes widened as she remembered.  
Mark’s fans. They were going to be wondering where he was, seeing that he had not been active on any of his social media sites for two days. “Crap crap crap crap,” Amy muttered, throwing off the blanket. She took the stairs two at a time, reaching Mark’s recording room. She didn’t need much, just the camera. Quickly setting everything up, she set the camera to “record” and sat in his chair. 

“Sorry if this is rushed, or looks terrible. Mark has had...some troubles…” she paused. Looking uneasy, Amy continued. “He will hopefully be back tomorrow. I can’t tell you anything, as I don’t want to, but he will be fine in a day or two. Please don’t worry to m-” she stopped. A cough echoed from downstairs, followed by another. Mark had launched into another one of his fits. Maybe he was awake. Her eyes darted to the camera, then back to the door. Hopefully the viewers wouldn’t be able to hear that. “I’ve got to go,” she said hurriedly. “Bye.” She quickly flipped off the camera, and uploaded the file to youtube. 

She dashed down the stairs, to where Mark was. “Oh good!” She said breathlessly. “Your awake!” She quickly walked to the coffee table and grabbed the glass of water and handed it to him. He still looked extremely sleepy, but she was sure he was going to stay awake this time. He took the water glass from her hand and downed it in one gulp. She looked on nervously as he set it down and avoided her gaze. His coughing had subsided, but he looked nervous as hell. 

“Um,” he started. “I can explain-”  
Amy slapped him.  
Mark looked astonished.  
“What?” Amy said, not giving him a chance to finish his explanation. “You can explain? Oh, I would love to know why you took these. Do you know how worried I was? How scared I was to find you slumped on the fucking floor?!” She stopped, gasping angrily, pill bottle grasped in her fingers, tears threatening to spill.

His eyes lit up. "Well, I'm **so sorry!** Mark growled. "I'm sorry that my self-esteem is too low for you. I'm sorry I'm worthless. Don't bother. I know I am. They tell me so." He pointed to his head. "I don't want to die, suffocated by flowers. Might as well go now." He laughed angrily. "I'm sorry I'm not **GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!"** He yelled. 

Amy wilted backwards. Mark never yelled at her. The tears started to spill down her cheeks, down her chin, onto the floor. "I-I'm sorry...I did-didn't know! I thought..." She shook her head. "Never mind. I'll leave." She turned around, ready to go up to her room.  
“Amy.” Mark said quietly, putting a hand on her arm and pulling her towards him. She tried to resist, but even drugged as he was, he was still stronger than her. He pulled her into a hug, making it clear that he wanted her there when he was starting to explain. “I haven’t been able to sleep in days. Weeks, even. I don’t know why, I don’t know how. Maybe it was because of the hanahaki.” He shrugged. “Only taking one or two wasn’t helping.”   
“How many did you take, Mark?” She asked warily, not really wanting to know the answer. 

He looked down, his loose hair brushing her face. "I don't know," he muttered.

She sighed, finally giving in to the hug. Amy wrapped her arms around him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. The pill bottle slipped from her fingers, down onto the hardwood. More tears leaked from her eyes, spilling down onto his shirt. “You could’ve just asked me to help you!” She cried. “I was so scared that I was going to lose you! I thought you were dead!” She stopped there, sobbing loudly.  
Mark tightened his hold on her, his thumb rubbing circles on her back, trying to calm her down. “Shh, shh, it’s ok,” he whispered, close to crying himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would turn out this way. I had forgotten that you were coming over.” Amy went silent and let the tears fall down her face. 

“Never. Do. That. Again.” She whisper-hissed at Mark. “Got that?” She poked him in the back.  
“Yes, Amy,” he said, laughing quietly.   
“Also, while you were out, I recorded a video for the fans, slightly explaining why you hadn't been active. I haven’t looked at any comments yet.” Mark unwrapped himself from Amy, using one arm to grab his phone, while the other was still around her shoulders. He unlocked his phone before going to his youtube account. The video was only 20 seconds long, but there were thousands of comments telling him that they hoped he got better, that he was ok. There were even a few asking what was wrong, but people had already taken care of that for him, saying to just give him some space. No one had seemed to hear the coughing.

He smiled. “Thank you, Amy.” She smiled back, dried tear tracks staining her face. She sat back, leaving some space between them so he could take care of the video and his fans. “I’m sorry I practically ruined your shirt.” She wrinkled her nose.  
“It’s fine, I can just put it through the wash. Come here,” he said, opening his arms. She stepped closer and wrapped her own arms around him, listening to his heartbeat and shaky breathing, which seemed to be smoothing out.

“Thank you for being there, Amy,” Mark said.  
“No problem,” she replied. Amy had no problems or thoughts to move anytime soon, wrapped in Mark’s warm embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed <33


	6. Sleepless Nights

It was a week after Mark’s incident, and so far Amy and Mark had managed to keep it a secret from the rest of the team. They had seen his video, yes, but Amy said he was just sick and tired, and although Ethan looked a little suspicious about that, they all accepted it. The video had since then been taken down and Mark had made a follow-up one to say "sorry" in a way.

Everyone was sitting at the dining room table, eating from the heaps of Chinese takeout someone - *coughEthancough* - had panic ordered. Ethan, Tyler, and Mark were trying to plan a random livestream on some horror game they had found, but were really just trying to see who could mix - and eat - the most food from their plates. Chica was sitting next to Mark on the floor, waiting to eat any food that fell. Ethan was sneaking bites of chicken to her. She barked and licked it up.

Meanwhile, Amy and Kathryn were chilling on the other side of the table, watching and betting on who would win. "I'll bet $20 on Ethan not throwing up," Amy said, eyes on Mark. Ethan currently held the lead, earlier concoctions from their plates on his. He took a deep breath and put a decently-sized fork-full in his mouth. Choking, Ethan managed to swallow all of it and keep it down. Poor kid looked miserable. “Ha!” Amy suddenly yelled. She pointed at Kathryn. “You owe me $20!”

Mark, Ethan, and Tyler paused and turned toward Amy and Kathryn. “Wait,” Mark said slowly. “You were betting?” Amy looked smug. “Yep. Kathryn bet that he couldn’t keep his food down, but I said he probably could.” Kathryn huffed and crossed her arms. Ethan burst out laughing, promptly joined by Tyler and Mark. He wheezed until Amy told him to “shut up or you’re going to throw up” and everyone quieted down to plan the livestream tomorrow. Mark tweeted out a reminder, asking the rest of the team to do the same. “Alright, let’s get this cleaned up and get some rest.”

Ethan, Tyler, and Kathryn had all left, leaving Amy and Mark at the house. “Are you staying here tonight?” He asked her. She was staring out the window. “Hm? Oh, sure,” she said distantly. “Are you ok?” Her mood was drastically worse than it was an hour ago.  
“Yea-well, no, not really.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m just worried about tomorrow. There’s going to be thousands of people watching online. What if you have an,” she paused. “An attack?” He sighed, running a hand through his black hair. “We can figure that out tomorrow.” Amy turned toward him. “Ok,” she said. Amy stepped forward and hugged him. “Goodnight, Markimoo,” she tiredly huffed. He laughed. “Goodnight, Peebles.” He hugged her back, then let her walk up to her room. He sighed. Amy had taken out all the sleeping pills and thrown them out, fearful of him having another episode. He was just gonna have to try to fall asleep this time.

 

Mark turned over on his side, still wide awake. He quickly checked the clock on his nightstand. It was 1 am. “Great,” he muttered, letting out a little cough. He sat up on the side of his bed, his head in his hands. Thoughts were racing through his head, crazy thoughts. The voices were back. They made him think thoughts about Amy, about Ethan, Kathryn, Tyler. What would they do if he just, stopped, you know? They’d probably be devastated. But then move on. People always move on. His breathing got heavier, faster, louder. Mark could hear the flowers, how his breath thread through their petals. How they tickled his lungs until he was forced to cough them up. How they kept growing. He started to shake, overwhelmed by all the thoughts.

**"Yeah, they'll get over you. Don't even know how they _even stand you_ as it is."**  
**"They'll be ok. Just do it, _crybaby!_ "**  
**"Trust us. We know best. _You_ should know best, if you listen to us."**

Mark started to laugh, laughing at the absurdness of his thoughts. "Shut the fuck up." He told thin air. Mark stopped to cough and catch his breath. Doubled over from exhaustion and the coughing, he stopped and looked toward the window. There was space outside to sit on the roof outside, right? The night was clear, it should be good for clearing his head. He walked to the window, unlatched the lock, and climbed out onto the cool roof. The warm night breeze rustled through his loose, ragged hair and whistled past his ears. Mark sighed in contentment and sat down next to his window, tired eyes gazing out over the city.

Los Angeles was beautiful at night. Well, to him at least. Buildings and skyscrapers had their lights on, illuminating the sky and the streets with cars rolling along on the roads below. People hurried, walked slowly, or sat on the benches lining the streets. Even this early in the morning, LA was busy. Above, clouds covered most of the sky, but the moon confidently shone bright and big, between the clouds. Mark couldn’t see many stars, but the ones he did see were small. Small twinkling lights, so far away, yet so pretty. Down below and all around, it was quiet. Not stifling quiet, but peaceful quiet. All he heard from up here, on his roof, was the quiet _whoosh_ of the wind through his hair and the occasional car honk down below. 

Mark’s eyelids started to droop, and he was starting to doze off when a dog bark woke him. He snapped upwards, alert, then let himself go limp. For one night, or maybe even a couple hours, he could forget about everyone. About the hanahaki. He could stay up here for awhile. 

 

He surfaced with a slow confusion, wondering why he could feel fresh air on his bare arms. “Wait,” he muttered sleepily. “I’m on my roof.” He laughed quietly. "Wow. Never thought I would wake up on my roof." 

It was still dark. Feeling more awake, he opened his window and slid back in his room. It was colder in here. He rubbed his arms and picked up his phone. _3:30am,_ it read. “Wow,” he said to himself. “Three and a half hours of sleep. Go me.” Still tired, he yawned and stretched, then put his phone back on the nightstand. He snuggled back under the covers, feeling happier than he had in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was aesthetically pleasing to write tbh now I want to draw it lmao


	7. Coffee Talks

Mark’s blaring phone alarm woke him, the ring repeating over and over. He mumbled and flipped over, then groaned and flipped back over again to turn it off. He sleepily turned off, looking at the time. “Seven am?” he grumbled. “Ugh. It’s to early for this shit.” Mark sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands while he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes. He got up and ran his fingers through his hair before opening his door and stepping out into the hallway. The cold air hit his bare chest like a brick wall. He blinked and yawned, turning left, but almost tripped over a sleeping Amy.

“Amy!” He said, surprised. “Why the hell are you sleeping outside my room? If you wanted to come in, you just could’ve asked.” 

Still half-asleep, she mumbled a bunch of random words. “Here, I’ll go make you some coffee, then you can talk.” He knew she really wouldn’t function until she had at least one cup of coffee. He walked down the stairs, into the kitchen, and prepared the coffee. Turning it on, he looked back to see that she had brought her blanket and pillow down with her, into the kitchen. “G’moornin’” She mumbled, still not completely awake.

“Good morning,” he replied, wrapping her in a hug. She seemed stiff. Probably from spending the night outside his room. The smell of coffee soon filled the kitchen, and Mark heard Amy sigh in contentment from the smell. He poured two cups and sat down on the couch, waiting for her. She sat on the opposite end, and beneath her tired exterior, she seemed tense. 

They sipped their coffees in silence until Amy spoke. “Um, so I guess your wondering why I was sleeping outside of your room last night.”

“Yeah, I am curious.” 

She put her cup down and pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. She didn't change from last night. “It's simple. Last night, you looked like you needed space. To just be alone. But I couldn’t just leave you alone, after your...accident.” Amy shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you, so when I went to bed, I waited for half an hour, then went to your room. I knocked, but I didn’t hear anything. I supposed that that was a good thing, that you were finally sleeping, but I was still worried about you, so I stayed.”

He sat in silence. He knew Amy cared about him. “Well, I…” He trailed off. “I was up on the roof last night.” Amy snapped her head towards him. “What?! Why the fuck were you up on the roof? What were you thinki-” Mark cut her off. “No, I was just up there because I needed some fresh air, it was warm, and the city is pretty at night.” He smiled, eyes cast downwards, remembering last night. He did love it. Maybe he should bring Amy up there sometime. He didn’t, though, tell her about the thoughts that had raced through his head. She didn’t need to know. She's worried about him enough already. Mark looked at her. "Are...you ok?"

She looked at him, sadness and another emotion battling in her gaze. “I…” She stopped, shaking her head. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, we need to get ready for the stream.”

Mark looked confused for a second, then shrugged. “Ok,” he said, picking up their cups. She stopped him with her hand on his, and looked him in the eyes. “If you start having a fit, do you remember the code word?” Her gaze was intense. “Yes,” Mark said.

“What is it?”

“Roses.”

"Thank you, idiot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but cute <3
> 
> "the tiny-closer. gives me the same feeling." @zesty


	8. Lights, Camera, Hold it Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little gore warning? not much, just some blood/flower stuff

“Heyyy!”  
Mark greeted Ethan and Tyler at the door, Amy standing behind him. “Ready for the livestream?” Ethan nodded, excited. He had a couple bags in his arms, full of things for the stream. Tyler was right behind, petting an excited Chica that had slipped out.

As Ethan and Tyler followed Mark into the living room, to finalize the set-up for the stream, and Amy chased and hearded an over-excited Chica back into the house, Mark’s shoulders shook in an effort to retain a cough. Amy looked over, a warning and worry in her eyes. He looked back and smiled thinly. "I'm fine."

 

“Hello everyone, and welcome-to-this -random-stream-that-we-put-together-last-night!” Mark said that all in one breath. He gasped and Ethan laughed. “Nice.” Mark smiled and Tyler sat, all stone. Amy and Kathryn were situated behind the cameras, monitoring the chat and watching the cameras. Amy had an eye on Mark, still worried. He said he was fine, but she was sure he wasn't. She wasn't going to let his ego get in the way of his health. Mental and physical. 

They were going to be playing some horror game Mark had found on the files deep in his computer, long forgotten. “I have no idea what this is called, but I found it on my computer, so we’re going to play it. Apparently, I downloaded it back in 2014. Wow." He smiled, then focused his attention on the screen. “Ok, three-player game,” he muttered, selecting the right button. “Alright, Mingus and Dingus, customize your characters. But keep them PG, please,” Mark said smiling. “We can’t edit this out if something goes wrong.” He winked at the camera.

 

All three men screamed like babies for the third time. The same jumpscare had gotten them again, and they hadn't found a way to get around it yet. Ethan groaned in frustration. “How?” He muttered, setting down the controller on the coffee table. Mark looked stressed. “Do you need a break?” Amy mouthed. He shook his head. Tyler looked frustrated. 

The controllers started to vibrate, and Ethan picked his back up. The screen faded to black, then onto a different dark-textured screen. “What’s happening?” Tyler asked. “I dunno, man,” Mark said. A new black shape appeared on-screen. “Do you want to unlock this character?” Said the text. It appeared that only Mark could control what happened here. He looked at everyone, and they nodded. He clicked yes and a small girl faded on screen. A shadow of the monster that they were unable to get by stood behind her. Like her shadow.

Mark skipped through the dialogue, eyes skipping over it, not seeing anything interesting until something caught his eye. The sentence, that once looked harmless, now looked threatening to Mark. The sentence read,

**“Have you ever been so deep in love, and so oblivious to that fact that even the flowers start to hate you?”**

Mark stopped. He felt every muscle in his body stiffen and lock, until he felt numb.

Slowly he pressed the next button, and the girl was there, but there were flowers. 

Flowers everywhere. All over her. Coming from her mouth. They wouldn’t stop. Their thin vines wrapped around her arms, her neck, the razor-sharp thorns digging into her paling skin. They left tiny, deep, cuts, all over her skin. Blood pooled out from each one. The shadow behind seemed to be getting bigger, and the flowers disappeared when it hovered over them. The girl was on the floor now, her chest rising and falling slower and slower, until her chest stopped rising and the shadow was at least twice as tall as the girl. The flowers had now almost encased her body, forming a little grave. A heart appeared in the shadow’s hand, dripping with petals and blood. Slowly, the shadow’s fingers curled and squeezed around the heart, until it was nothing but a shriveled black figment of what it once was. It smiled.

**That's what happens, when you fall in love, and they don't love you back. The world is a cruel place, _isn't it?_**

_THATWASITTHATWASITTHATWASITTHATWASTHEVOICEINHISHEADANDITWASTALKINGTOMEAND-_

Mark was aware that he was staring, maybe it was becoming evident to the chat, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t move. The voice had wrapped around his head, around his chest, squeezing. Like he was teasing the flowers, to explode out of him. He heard it laugh. 

He fuzzily registered Ethan waving his hand in front of his eyes, and Tyler shaking him, but he couldn’t move. He tried to mumble “I’m fine” but it sounded more like a mish-mash of words. Amy yelled something. He couldn't tell what. 

I'm back! Oh, its so _good_ to be back! But, bye for now! 

Suddenly violent shiver ran through him, a searing pain running up his spine. He jerked, and suddenly he had control again. He sucked in air, eyes blinking rapidly. His hands had long ago let the controller fall onto the floor, and he warily picked it back up. 

Amy was still behind the camera, looking scared. “Are you ok?” She asked. She had moved herself so that she was covering the cameras. “M’fine,” he mumbled. She looked like she didn’t believe him. She looked scared. Ethan and Tyler looked at him, worried. “That was one hell of a scene,” he said, laughing thinly. “Yeah,” Tyler agreed, seeing the change of subject. Amy removed herself from in front of the cameras, going to take care of the fans. 

“Ethan, could you get some food from the kitchen?” 

“Sure.” As he stepped off-camera, Mark switched the game to something more light-hearted. “Ah,” he said out loud. “Gang Beasts! Haven’t played this in a while!” Mark tried to laugh off what had happened a couple moments ago. It had only lasted a few seconds, but it had felt like hours. Hopefully, none of the fans noticed anything. He did not want to deal with that. 

They had switched games a few more times, quickly becoming bored with each one. Right now they were on a round of Arms, with Ethan and Mark playing. Tyler had gone to pick up some pizza. 

“Goddammit!” Mark swore, as he missed a hit to Ethan’s character. “Stop moving!”  
Ethan laughed at Mark’s troubles. He hit Mark’s character, almost ending the round. “No no, shorty,” he teased.  
Amy laughed. “Shorty.” 

As Ethan won the round and bragged about it, Mark had gone off to the other side of the couch to pout. But Ethan looked so smug that he had to laugh. Soon both were in an all-out laughing fit. Chica was barking excitedly. 

**Hellooo! I said I would be back! Time to let it out!**

Mark felt the tickle in his chest. It started out small, then grew until he had to double over. He knew this cough. Once it started a fit, it didn’t stop, not until he had hacked up a flower or two. Amy didn’t know, none of them knew. It was always a middle-of-the-night type thing. Why strike now? Mark quickly moved off-camera, trying to swallow it all down. He hated it. He hated himself. The coughs subsided.

Now stifling the coughs, he went back in frame, smiling tightly. “You ok?” Ethan asked, head cocked to the side. “Yep!” Mark said, a little too brightly. 

 

He tried to conceal the coughs as much as he could, but with his shaking body, he couldn’t keep it up much longer. As he tried to move off-frame, towards the bathroom, his stomach heaved and he was forced to open his mouth. He expected to throw up, but instead petals flew out and it was soon followed by others, all flying and slipping out from behind his fingers that were trying to conceal his mouth. Every time he tried to breathe in, it felt like the thorns were ripping and tearing at his lungs, his skin, leaving little bleeding cuts behind.

_He couldn't move._

Every time he tried to breathe out, the petals were there. The flowers were there. Every time he tried to breathe in, they were there. Mark felt them clawing their way up his throat, until they peeked out of his mouth, and he was unable to hide them. The roots took hold, tightening their hold on his lungs and throat until he was hands and knees on the floor, one hand over his mouth.

 

Mark faintly heard Chica barking as he went down. Tyler was yelling something, Ethan was knocking over the controllers in a rush to get to the cameras, and Amy yelling “Roses! Roses!” 

He saw her pretty face, stained with thick tears, appear above him. He raised a hand to her face and managed to touch her cheek and whisper “I’m sorry” before his vision dimmed, his hand fell and his eyes rolled back in his head. Just before he blacked out, he felt her hand on his, holding it tight, and she was whispering “Stay with me. Stay with me,” in a gradually higher-pitched voice. “Mark! Mark, can you hear me?! _Stay with me!” _She yelled, and yelled but she was just yelling at a limp form on the floor,__

__

___roses_  
filling  
the  
place  
that  
used  
to 

__smile._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes you can't keep it together.
> 
>  
> 
> (also,, it randomly added tons of I and b tags ?? half of the work was italicized and bold)  
> proud of that title tbh


	9. Ocean Depths and Swimming Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is from Mark's head ! To Amy+everyone else, he's knocked out
> 
> but there is a small section from Amy

_Mark sighed. The ice-cold wind bit at his bare body, and he shivered. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, and his head swiveled around to take in his surroundings._

_He thought he was on the roof again. But when he looked around, all there was was cold, dark, endless ocean. And he was floating in it. Mark screamed, looking around for an island or something to grip on to, to get him out of these cold, dark depths. He couldn't see the bottom, but way down below, he saw murky black shapes, swimming around. His toes curled in and he surpassed the urge to vomit. Still paddling, he tried to call out, thinking that his voice was going to be shaky and raspy. But he coughed as he tried to speak. He looked down and saw pale blue, yellow, and pink flowers curled out of his mouth. His eyes widened, trying to see them more._

_As he took his hands out of the water, the cold spray landed on his arms, making him shiver. It was also then that he saw the vines encircling his arms, flowers sprouting all along the length of them. They encircled his arms, half his torso, his neck. They weaved their way through his hair, and he hated that every move he made caused the thorns to dig deeper into his flesh._

_"It's not real, its not real, its all in my head..." He repeated to himself._

_Well, it sure wasn't his living room. He was in a bottomless ocean, cold, with the sky dark, stormy, gray. It looked like it was going to rain. Heavily. He looked around again, trying to call for help, but he only ended up in dragging himself into a coughing fit. Petals were dislodged and they flew through the air, until they hit the water and sunk._

_"Petals don't sink..."_

_**Yes, they do. Here they do.** _

_His head whipped around to see a small rocky island, clumps of dead grass just managing to hang on. That wasn't there before. But that wasn't what most of his surprise was directed at._

_It was directed at the shadow sitting like a king on top of the rock._

_**Hello. Long time no see.** _

_Mark hissed from beneath his prison of the flowers. He made a lunge for the rock, but he was jerked back into place. He looked down and saw a silver chain circled around his left ankle, the chain running down into the depths. He fought back panic and stared at the shadow. Fear and anger battled in his gaze._

_**I know you know me. I know me. All your dark thoughts are me. So I am me.** _

_It smiled, a cold and uninterested smile. It continued._

_**I almost made it, yes? I almost did. But you were there. And that wasn't good. And that girl.** _

_Its lip curled, showing only inky blackness for a mouth. Something wriggled inside, and Mark gagged._

_**Its hard for both of you, yes? Yes. The hanahaki. Its beautiful. The one thing that keeps me stable. But you still like her.** It nodded. **You have discovered deeper feelings for her, yes. Yes. She, though, has not. Or has she?**_

__

__

He hated the way it spoke. It spoke in a cryptic, unamused way. Mark wanted to punch him in the jaw. 

**_Oh no no no, you can't do that._**

_It fucking read his mind. He hated it even more now. He felt heavier, and something tugged on his chain. Was he waking up? He wanted to escape._

**_You'll wake up, I promise. Just a little longer. The skies have to rain. And we have to talk._**

_It smiled, and Mark felt...nothing._

_Thunder crashed and lightening flared in the distance. The skies had broken open at last. Ice cold drops doused his hair, battered his shoulders and eyes. He hated talking to the thing. It had talked about all his years with Amy. What he did right, what he could've done. It made him angry. Very, very angry. It talked about her like she was a piece of dirty trash, just to be tossed away. He had lunged for it more than once, but each time, a chain had been added to his collection around his legs. Ten chains weighed him down. Some were on his wrists. As he struggled to keep his head above the water, a bright light shone through the downpour. He turned and winced, not used to the brightness. As his eyes adjusted, he squinted to see._

**_Watch. This is happening. Right here, right now. Not then, not before. Now._**

Amy sighed, looking down at Mark. She was sitting next to him in his bed. It had been 18 hours since he had blacked out in front of the cameras. She had locked herself in his room, only going out to use the bathroom. She had yelled viciously at Ethan when he tried to bring her down for dinner. So he had walked up later, leaving a plate of cold pizza and water in front of the locked door. Later, she had felt bad, so she left an "I'm sorry Ethan" note outside the door. When he had came back up, she had heard him pick it up, paper crinkling. A couple seconds later, Amy had heard a laugh and an "It's ok" before he left.

She hadn't slept yet, though. She was to worked up. The only movement Mark had made was whenever he shifted or coughed. When he coughed, the flowers that spilled out of his mouth shivered. She hated those flowers. She hated herself. After Mark coughed again, she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. "Mark Fischbach," she whispered to him. "Please wake up. I need you. Her tone grew more serious. "I...I love you." She leaned closer and kissed him gently on the cheek, before going mute and rocking his limp form back and forth.

_Mark stared as the yellow glow faded away. She had said it. She had said it. She had said it! He was crying and blubbering through the flowers in his mouth, through the pouring rain. She loved him. He loved her. He cried and laughed, ecstasy briefly clearing the dark thoughts from his head. One by one, the chains that were wrapped around his ankles and wrists snapped and sunk, and he coughed in joy when the last one was gone. Petals streamed from his mouth. He swam towards the island, fingertips about to scrape the rock. Right before he could, something slimy wrapped itself around his sore ankles before violently jerking him down. He saw its eyes, looking at him, before his head was dragged underwater._

_As the cold water wrapped around his body, he became numb. It was cold. Cold. He shivered and tried to free himself from the thing, but it was dragging him down, down. It got colder and colder as they went deeper. The light from the surface disappeared and the flowers and vines were ripping themselves free from his skin. They were whirled around in the current and bubbles before swirling off into the dark depths. Mark screamed as the flowers rooted in his lungs were ripped free. The pain was an excruciating, white hot bolt. Tears mixed with the water and he began to grow weaker, the pressure splitting him open, pulverizing him. His eyes were closing, and he was trying to breathe but each breath was met with icy water, and he was choking. His hand drifted upward, and his eyes closed as he was pulled down, down, down, down..._

His eyes were watering, his head was foggy, his lungs screamed for air and his body screamed with pain. Airairairair-So he breathed.

He was warm. What about the cold, cold, cold water? Something moved behind him, and hair brushed gently against his back. He turned around.

Amy was there. Wrapped around him, keeping him warm, safe, and loved. He turned around slowly, feeling bruised. He brushed a hand against her tear-stained cheeks, which caused her to slightly open her eyes.

His breath was shaky and raspy, but he moved closer.

"Amy," he breathed, before tilting her head and planting his lips on hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so chapter 8 was the end of my pre-written ones
> 
> so this was from scratch !
> 
> I took a "break" in my powerpoint that is probably overdue and needs to be done to write this


	10. Sunset Views

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter :(

_That's how Ethan found them. The door was blown open from a breeze from the open window in the room. They were wrapped around each other, encased in their own world. Looks like they had finally found each other._

_Dead flower petals were strewn about the room, and the ones that had once covered his mouth were in a clump on the nightstand. They looked like they were quickly rotting. He heard a throaty noise from Mark on his right and decided to leave before it got worse. He laughed once he was downstairs, and decided to find Kathryn and Tyler._

Amy and Mark were up on the roof in the late evening Los Angeles sun. It was comfortably warm, and a slight breeze ran through Amy's hair. She was leaning up agains Mark, who had propped himself up on a ridge in the roof. They were sitting quietly, enjoying each other's company. Amy was still warm and giddy from their earlier encounter. When she had opened her eyes to a rough but gentle touch after accidentally dozing off, she thought it was Ethan, telling her to come downstairs. But as she had opened her eyes, she saw Mark's chocolate ones, staring right at her, full of love. All his hanahaki was gone, it was drifting onto the nightstand, the floor, the sheets, his lap. She was silently crying with happiness and relief. Mark was back. Her Mark.

She leaned back into him, feeling his ruffled tee wrinkle under her body. He exhaled and let an arm loosely hang around her shoulders, holding her close. After a while of just being quiet and looking down at the city below, Amy spoke. "I'm glad you're here."

He laughed. "Me too." He gave her a quick kiss on the head, then asked, "What happened after I..." He paused, thinking. "Almost died?" Amy suggested. "Sure, yeah." She thought for a moment. "Well, you collapsed, Ethan managed to quickly turn off the cameras, Kathryn and I carried you up to your room, and Tyler calmed Chica down." She shrugged. "There's not much to say. I haven't checked any social media since then, I didn't want to. I was afraid." Mark wondered, half to himself, "Was I in frame that whole time?" Amy heard him. "Yeah. Ethan took care of the chat afterwards, and there was lots of panic, lots of anxiety, that kind of thing. I think he tweeted something out about how you would be gone for a few days, but thats it. None of us that I know of have done anything with the Internet since then."

"Well, the damage is done. I guess we'd better take down that livestream, and put out a video saying I'm ok." He said. "But we can do that later. I want to stay here with you." She blushed and smiled, then they both grew quiet, looking down at the city below.

Mark and Amy walked down the stairs to join the others in the dining room. They hadn't seen Mark or Amy since he had collapsed, so they were eager to see him.

Mark paused at the entrance to the dining room, drawing in a breath. Amy halted behind him. Ethan, Tyler, Kathryn, and Chica all turned towards the sound. Ethan was the first to speak. "Hi," he managed to squeak out. Mark laughed and ran forward to hug him. Chica barked, tail wagging, and soon the room's mood went from tense to relaxed and happy. Amy went to go say hi to Kathryn and Tyler, and Mark finished hugging Ethan. He moved to go sit next to Amy, the rest of the team exchanging knowing looks.

"You know," Ethan said with his mouth full, "I'm glad you're back."

"You know what?" Mark responded, a playful glint in his eye. "I'm glad too."

He turned Amy's face towards him and kissed her while the rest of the table went "Ewww! Get a room!"

Chica barked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this !! I hope everyone enjoyed ! This is the end of this fic, but there will be more ! I'm working on some Amyplier/Septiishu One-shots based on songs and I've got an angsty Ethan wip, Septiishu high school wip, and a mystery one !
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading !! Stay tuned !


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